The Trial of Truth

I stepped into the octagonal chamber, the obsidian shrine at its center pulsing with an unseen force. The entrance had been hidden, only revealed through the gauntlet’s piercing vision. As I approached, a presence stirred—an ancient entity, neither hostile nor welcoming.

“What proof do you have that you are ready for the last gem?” it asked, its voice resonating through the stone.

I met the unseen gaze without hesitation. “The proof is me standing here. I am all the proof you need.”

Silence stretched. Then, the shrine shifted, and the air shimmered as a maze of mirrors unfolded around him, endless reflections twisting reality into illusion. The only way forward was through truth was my own. Trusting the gauntlet’s pull, I quieted my mind, seeking my center. The true path revealed itself in glimpses of certainty, and I followed without doubt.

At the maze’s heart, an orb pulsed with power. When I touched it, clarity surged through me and the final gem’s location unveiled, but one last trial awaited.

Two doors. Two magical guards. One spoke only lies, the other only truth. One door led to freedom. The other, death. A single question was permitted.

Chance studied them, then spoke. “If you were the liar, which door would lead to my freedom?”

The answer came. Without hesitation, I chose the opposite door and stepped through.

Beyond it lay the final gem. As it settled into the gauntlet, warmth spread through me, and with it, a new awareness I could now sense falsehoods, the weight of truth laid bare before me.

With my prize claimed, I returned to Ordazar, waking the young god from his radiant slumber. Together, we walked the true path out of the dungeon, leaving behind darkness and deception, stepping into the light of the world beyond.

Their journey home had begun.

The morning sun rises over the open countryside as Chance and Ordazar continue their journey home. The air is crisp, and the only sounds are the rustle of the wind and the crunch of their footsteps on the dirt path. The day feels peaceful, but the shadows of the previous dungeon looms in my mind. I’m reflecting on what comes next—dealing with Baroness Blackthorn, fulfilling my duty, and raising Ordazar. My thoughts are interrupted as a strange rumbling vibrates through the ground beneath my feet.

Suddenly, from the edge of the trees ahead, a massive Manticore bursts out into view, its tail swishing and claws glinting in the sunlight. Its lion-like body, bat-like wings, and scorpion-like tail make it a terrifying sight. With a roar of fury, it announces its presence, eyes locking onto Ordazar.

The creature’s powerful wings beat the air as it swoops down, tail poised with spiked projectiles ready to launch. Its sharp teeth gleam as it surveys the path, its instincts honed for hunting and striking fear.

As it charges, the manticore’s claws tear through the earth, and the ground shakes beneath its weight. The beast gives a fierce, echoing roar of terror, attempting to instill fear in its prey.

The tail spikes are launched toward Ordazar. The creature’s aim is true, but Ordazar’s divine presence flares up, a strange energy coursing through the air, warning me of the impending attack.

As the manticore makes its way toward us, it uses a flyby attack, swooping close, its claws swiping at me, forcing me to act quickly.

Not one to back down easily, I raise my staff, calling upon its chaotic powers in an attempt to defend myself. The winds seem to stir around me as the staff pulses with unpredictable energy, ready to unleash one of its random effects.

Ordazar, sensing the danger, steps forward—his eyes glowing with an internal power. He might not understand everything yet, but instinct tells him that he and his caretaker have a problem.

As the manticore’s tail swings around for another strike, it’s clear that this will be no ordinary encounter. But what’s even more unsettling is the growing sense that Ordazar may have more power than either of them understands, and this battle might turn the tide of their relationship forever.

As the Manticore roars and lunges toward me, its tail lashes out with terrifying speed, launching a barbed spike aimed straight at Ordazar. But Chance, acting on instinct, raises his Staff of Wonder to shield the child god. Butterflies—bright, colorful, and shimmering—burst out from the staff in a chaotic, surreal display. They swirl in the air, momentarily obscuring the manticore’s vision, but not enough to stop the spike from striking its target.

The spike hits me in the shoulder with a sickening thud, sending a jolt of pain through my body. I stumble backward, barely able to keep my feet under me. The poison starts to take effect, a burning sensation spreading through my veins. I falls to my knees, gasping for air, but my toughness and quick reflexes allow me to resist the worst of it.

Ordazar, sensing the danger and seeing my struggling, reacts instinctively. His eyes glow brightly, and for a moment, time seems to stretch. There’s a sudden, sharp pressure in the air around them, and a wave of raw mental power radiates outward from Ordazar.

With an unearthly force, Ordazar unleashes a devastating mindblast, his power surging through the air like a storm. The manticore, already startled by the chaotic butterflies, is completely overwhelmed. Its powerful body shudders, and it lets out an agonized roar as its mind is crushed under the weight of Ordazar’s divine influence. The beast’s wings falter as it’s slammed back against a nearby tree, its eyes glazing over as its mind is reduced to a blank, empty state.

The manticore collapses to the ground, paralyzed and defeated, the last tremors of its struggling form fading into the grass. Ordazar’s breath comes in short, uneven bursts as the energy ripples from his tiny form. He stumbles a little, but his gaze never leaves Chance, sensing his pain.

Still recovering from the spike’s poison, I look up at the fallen manticore in disbelief. Ordazar’s sudden, overwhelming power had wiped the creature out with a single thought. As the adrenaline begins to wear off, Chance realizes just how much power is radiating from Ordazar. The godling is no longer the fragile child he once was—he is something far more powerful, something that might just change the course of their future.

Still kneeling, I reach out, placing a hand on Ordazar’s head, his voice full of both awe and gratitude: “You saved me, little one… You’re more powerful than I ever imagined.”

For a moment, the only sound is the wind rustling through the countryside as the reality of what just happened sinks in. Ordazar looks at me, his eyes soft but knowing, and perhaps for the first time, Chance feels a deeper connection—a bond that’s beyond a mere caretaker and child. It’s something profound, something that might shape everything to come.

After a long and eventful journey, Chance and Ordazar arrive in the Kingdom of Xy, weary from their travels but still brimming with a sense of accomplishment. The kingdom is a bustling and vibrant place, its streets filled with merchants and travelers. They make their way to the Obsidian Ax Inn, a well-known establishment famous for its hearty meals and comfortable accommodations.

The Innkeeper, a stout dwarf with a thick beard, greets them with a warm smile as they enter. “Ah, guests! You look like you’ve traveled far. A room for the night?” He motions for them to follow him to a cozy chamber on the second floor.

With their room arranged, they head down to the tavern for a well-earned evening meal. The atmosphere is warm and lively, the soft glow of the fireplace lighting the faces of weary travelers, adventurers, and locals. The tavern’s scents are filled with roasted meats, baked bread, and simmering stews. Chance and Ordazar settle at a table by the fire, enjoying the peace for the first time in what feels like forever.

As we settle in, I begin to relax, but that sense of calm is soon broken.

A half-drunk human stumbles over to their table, his breath heavy with the scent of ale. His eyes flicker with a mix of curiosity and contempt as he stands over us, looking down at us with a slurred smile.

“What is a human child doing with you, half-orc?” He sneers, the words dripping with disdain. “Are you pretending to be a father to this little child? Or is there something more going on here? Are you using him for something?”

His gaze shifts between me and Ordazar, his posture aggressive and belligerent, clearly not in the mood for a friendly conversation. The tavern’s chatter continues around them, but this moment feels like it’s frozen in time—his words heavy, a challenge hanging in the air.